


Time Off

by Anonymaustrap



Category: Champions (Roleplaying Game), Champions Online
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-11 13:36:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20154469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymaustrap/pseuds/Anonymaustrap
Summary: Sergeant Katrina Mirinova's vacation is cut short by the appearance of The Drifter.





	1. Orders are Orders

Within UNTIL, Major Clay was famous for many things -- Commander of the Office of SuperHuman Resources, life-long UNTIL fixture since the 1970s -- but his handlebar mustache made him legend. Precise and pencil thin, it struck out from his face to rise in majestic curls just under his cold grey eyes. Between his mustache and his oval face and round cheeks, his was a viage perfect for a straw hat and a barbershop quartet -- As long as one didn’t look at his eyes. More than one junior officer had confessed to Sergeant Katrina Mirinova at being perplexed by the mix of the comical and the severe, unable to figure out where to focus their gaze.

Focus on the eyes, Katrina advised. Always. Today, in a surprise visit to Millenium City, those eyes held a gaze was so calm that Corporal Andres almost seemed comfortable. Andres turned his nervous tension into a crisp attention to detail. Katrina liked that in him. 

The meeting had been arranged in a small, discreet office far off from the hustle and gossip of the main wing of Millennium City UNTIL Headquarters. Major Clay could get any room he wanted, yet he chose this tiny cubby. Off, because he usually liked his meetings big and bold, with holographic projections and, whether in-person or projected from New York, room enough to pace and gesticulate and twirl that damn mustache of his. So the room was peculiar, Katrina decided, as was his decision to sit behind the desk, hands clasped in front, and indicate for them to sit.

“Sergeant, I want you to take a few days off. Corporal Andres, I want you to reassign your work and handle Sergeant Mirinova’s caseload while she’s gone.”

To his credit, Corporal Andres tried to look surprised, but the expression of shock never reached his eyes. So Clay, Andres/ Who else? Two is a secret. Three is conspiracy. Katrina felt the irritation of being out of the loop.

“Yes Sir. May I ask why?”

“One, because it's an order, Sergeant --”

“Sir, yes sir.”

“I said at ease, Sergeant. Jesus.” Major Clay twirled his mustache, preening as if in thought. A distraction. He resumed, his voice more subdued. “You’ve been going nonstop since that deal with the Destroyer and Warlord. Coming up on a year now.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it.” Katrinia lied.

“Corporal Andres, you’re going to have a lot of work for a bit. Go get your work reassigned. I’ll finish up with Mirinova, here.” 

Andres snapped off a quick salute before he left. Major Clay twirled his mustache. For a moment, Katrina wondered if he was trying to intimidate her before she realized that if he could have tugged on that mustache and pulled the right words from his mouth, he would have. Instead, he camped his heels on the desk. “Sergeant, you’ve got enough VTOL credits to fly anywhere in the world courtesy of UNTIL. Take a trip, get some relaxation in.”

“Sir, my psych review evaluated me fit for duty.”

“Of course you’re fit for duty. You’re always fit for duty. But this isn’t about fitness. This is about taking time to appreciate why we go through all this. Go civilian for a few days. Don’t come back any earlier than Monday.”

“A week, Sir?” Katrina tried to hide the chagrin in her tone. Major Clay _ hated _ being questioned. “VIPER has Dr. Destroyer’s Zeta ray, Valravn is hiding out in Ravenswood, and DEMON has--”

“A week, Mirinova. At least. No more than two, like I have to give you a cap. And it is an order. Do whatever you want to do out of uniform. Hell, sneak around and do all that stuff you think Base Commander Kermal doesn’t know about. But--"

“Sir, in all fairness, I’d prefer not to bother him with little things.”

The mustache twitched once. Only once. “_But_, Sergeant, stay out of OSR business. Corporal Andres will run your calendar. Dismissed. You are ordered to have fun.”

Sergeant Mirinova stood and saluted, already working through the contacts she needed to notify. Kutter a PRIMUS, the Champions? No, let the rest of staff handle it. At the door, when Major Clay spoke again, She was surprised that his tone was as close to gentle as she’d ever heard it.

“Sergeant, some anniversaries can be a real bitch, and I know you planned on working right through it, but some things don’t deserve to be boxed up. They have ways of getting out.”

*

Corporal Andres took hasty notes on his tablet as Katrina marched the deserted hallway.

“The fey prefer nectar, orange blossom if you can find it. You should be able to get some from Caprice if we run low. Don’t hesitate to call the MCPD if those daft Norsement at Sherra’s get rowdy. They may be loud and stupid, but they understand getting their liquor license pulled. Call Agent Cutter if PRIMUS stonewalls you, but don’t ask him about Montana, he’ll brief me when I get back. But If he calls--

Corporal Andres managed to cut in, “Sergeant, have orders not to-” 

“He won’t call unless it’s important, and if you don’t tell him you’re relaying the message, he’ll just call me directly. I’m not asking for treason, I’m asking for a head’s up.”

Andres’ jaw set as he gave a nod. 

“I’d like everything we’ve got on the Montana incident loaded to my phone, along with anything involving Blowtorch and Scimitar. Also that report on corvids--nevermind I’ll get that myself.”

“You’re supposed--”

“Beach reading.

The hallway gave way to double locked doors, pressure sensors and weapon turrets. Empty holding cells brooded in shadow. A thick, round door that banks envied, held the only occupant. A pair of techs clustered around energy readouts, reviewing and relaying back to HUGIN. The monitors bathed the room in blue. 

The techs’ pale faces made Katrina wonder if they were ever required to take time off. Her hand left a pale outline on the palm plate. Metal bars slid with a deep clank. The door groaned open on slow, grinding motors. 

“You should leave the door open,” she said to the techs.

A pudgy face regarded her with dismay. “What good would that do? We wouldn’t have containment.”

Katrina shrugged. “It might not get destroyed if she wakes up. The Vault’s pretty tight, but its not Ymir’s heart.”

“Ymir’s what?”

“Nevermind. If you had been imprisoned for thousands of years and took a nap, wouldn’t you want to wake up to the sight of freedom?” The smell of dust tickled her nose as she stepped through the portal. Inside, the basalt -- over four meters around at the base and almost five meters from base to top. She placed her hand on the rough surface. Andres reached for his blaster. Katrina shook her head. 

“I’m going away for a few days. If you need anything, find Valravn. I hope she’s still in a condition to help. I’ll be back in a wee-- seven days.” Her voice was swallowed by the stone. She stepped back through the doorway; her gaze never left it until the door closed.

“Jesus, that thing gives me the creeps,” Andres said.

“Trust your instincts on that.”

“Shouldn’t it be in Stronghold? Under hot sleep?”

“Being creepy isn’t a crime, Corporal.”

“Yes ma’am, and Sergeant, if I may say…”

“You’re going to anyway--”

“Neither is taking a little time off.”

“I was going to go to Shatili over Christmas.”

“Begging the Sarge’s pardon, but you said that last year.”

“Tell me something Corporal -- did you recommend my time off? ”

She watched Andres shift uncomfortably. “Major Clay’s office asked what I thought, and I told them what I always tell you -- that Grond will always be there and life is too short not to enjoy yourself once in a while.”

“Time,” Katrina said, “is something I have plenty of.”

*

Doctor Black had said time’s velocity would change, and years would slip by until they were nothing more than a moment, because naturally, she would adjust her perceptions to accommodate an appreciable chunk of eternity -- not forever, but a much longer span than humanity was built for. The mind can only hold so much, Dr Black was fond of pointing out, and as such, she really had two options: One was to make room for new memories by forgetting old unused memories to make room for more experiences. Little things at first, then eventually she’d forget her father’s face, or even that she had a father. Photos and journals could help, but eventually they will become tales of another woman.

The other was to stop remembering new things, so that her frame of reference froze and new things ceased to have meaning. She would be a walking anachronism, removed from the world. Valravn, older than even her own expected lifespan, had lost thousands of years of imprisonment with demons. Katrina couldn’t help but think of it as a blessing.

She did tease a third option from Dr. Black, one where the separation of past and present merged. 

“That would be madness, of course,” Dr. Black had said, “But one that you need not choose.”

Katrina had laughed then and said, “I’m Russian! I choose all three.”

Dr. Black grin had been tinged with sadness. It occurred to Katrina that at least in two of the three scenarios the memory, and the idea of that moment, would be gone.


	2. Ill-met by Downpour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katrina, out of uniform, prowls Westside

Technically, leave started tomorrow, so there was just enough time to discreetly check on some things, provided little things didn’t become complicated. Which meant Katherine was just another hoodie and jeans in Westside, hustling through the evening drizzle. The downpour earlier had washed the concrete to a dull brown. While most of Westside’s gangs avoided the wet, the Maniacs loved to cause mayhem in the rain, especially on the weak and unsuspecting. 

The stalker had followed her since Oak, then loped ahead at Pine to approach her from the opposite end of Poplar. Shirtless, his skin glowed slick and waxy in the drizzle, the streetlights glinting off of bits of metal in his skin. His spiked hair added to his height and he swung one arm wildly while the other dragged a baseball bat that clanked against the pavement. As he closed, Katrina noticed the barbed wire coiled in tight loops around the bat.

Katherine switched to a balanced stance, light on the balls of her feet. The maniac stops short of walking over her and hovered forcing her to look up into a cheek feel of pins and a grin filled with teeth filed to crooked points. He hissed leaning close enough to sniff at her face, “You smell like meat.” 

Katrina wiped at her face. “Christ, I already got a shower in the rain, loony.” She looked him up and down with a bored expression. “I bet all the safety pins and spitting really rattles the norms. Go home.” 

“Bitch, this is my home,” the Maniac said, stretching is arms out until they looked ready to split from his shoulders and staggering through a pirouette. “You’re in my playroom!” 

From the alley, Kat head a giggle. She sighed. Loonies were the worst when they were their own audience. That was their drill. Lead loony freaks her out, she runs, and the whole pack gives chase. Usually.

Katrina made a show of looking around the rain-drenched buildings. “Love what you did with the place. So, did you hear the joke of the looney who annoyed an ARGENT killer and had his guts spread from the playroom to the kitchen?”

Slow they may be, but even he couldn’t ignore the threat. He wheeled back, slow and menacing. “You’re not--”

Her hand shot up and caught his ear. She pushed her thumbnail up under the lobe and didn’t stop until she’d sunk her thumb up the first knuckle and the looney’s body had gone stiff. Her other hand twisted his wrist until the bat hit the ground with a clatter. At the hint of struggle, she dug deeper with her thumb; his groan melted into a whimper as she pulled him downward and stood on her toes to snap her teeth at his ear. 

A voice came to Katrina a girls voice, high and breathless-- a girl almost forgotten -- not quite old enough for the smokey dance clubs of Grozny, a voice that whispered through music. “I get the scene -- your best girl’s breaking up with you in front of your mates and you’re trying to look cool. And you think, maybe, just maybe, if you play it smart, she’ll still wear your letter sweater and go with you to the prom. Right?” She snapped her teeth again.

Katrina released his ear, and he staggered back. His hand went to his ear and came back bloody, the bat forgotten. His bewildered glare went from Katrina to the alleyway. The glance was all she needed. 

“Mint?” Katrina asked to his startled gaze, closer than when he looked away. His eyes followed her glance downward. 

Her hand could have held a knife or a gun, positioned slightly below and to the left against his chest. She opened her hand to reveal the small metallic tin. While he wondered when she’d pulled it out, she popped the lid with her thumb, and took out a chalky white lozenge. His blood on her thumb smeared the white tablet pink. She rattled the tin at the looney.

“The rule of mints. If you’re offered, don’t ask why, just take one.” She placed the mint in her mouth, crunching down on it with slow, deliberate pressure in a way Corporal Andres had once asked her to stop because the popping sound made him think of bone. 

“Just walk away like I aint no thing,” Katrina murmured with her sweetest smile and a gentle bat of her eyes. “Or I will be  _ that _ thing, and your friends will have to fuck off without you and find a new stalker.”

The loony arched and loomed over her, but she could see his heart wasn’t in it. He hovered, then wheeled around her, after he snatched the tin away, sauntering down the street, arms swinging wide, whistling ‘Singing in the Rain.’

Katrina picked up the abandoned bat, testing its weight in her hand as she looked into the shadows of the alleyway. It rained harder bouncing into mist off the concrete and her soaked hood dipped into her vision. “C’mon in,'' she said, “The water’s fine.” She stared hard into the darkness until the shadows emptied.

Only one remained. Not a Maniac, though. Definitely moved like a professional as he flipped down the fire escape to land gracefully on the sidewalk, his rain poncho shivering like a makeshift cape. His moves gave him away -- Iron, one of Hi Pan’s hands. He stood arms akimbo, his namesake sword still sheathed behind his back. 

Katrina hefted the bat.

“Did you just out-loony a loony?”

Katrina shrugged. “What do you want, Iron?”

“The Master will honor your presence with his.” 

She heard the soft drop from behind. Gold, Iron’s sister, landed lightly on her other side, catching Katrina in a wedge. Gold flipped her poncho aside to reveal her sword and kept her hands free. Katrina switched the bat in her hand. Iron was strong, but Gold was faster and favored the kick-heavy crane style. As Katrina let the rain wash the manaic’s blood off her thumb, Katrina plotted a good, solid swing to Gold’s knee.

“I’m off duty,” Katrina said with an indifferent shrug.

“Soldiers like us are never off duty,” Iron said.

“You’re no soldier,” Katrina trained her scowl on both of them.

“We follow orders. We kill the enemy. Soldiers, you and I.”

“I support heroes that save the world. You deal in drugs and hookers.”

“Drugs and battle have been partners since the Opium Wars,” Gold said, “The hashish trade was quite profitable during both Gulf Wars…”

Katrina held up a hand, “I have business to get to. If you are going to attack me, lets get on with it. Just don’t talk me to death.”

To their credit, neither of them rose for the bait, though Golds hand gripped the hilt of her sword. Iron crossed his hands and sighed. “The Master says it is cold and wet, and that warm noodles, hot tea, and company gird the soul for trying times.”

Katrina chuckled, and wondered how badly they fucked up that Hi Pan had them delivering pleasantries when they’d loved nothing more than being feared muscle and making opium deals. A suit of power armor screamed through the air, bringing justice to the sky as she weighed her options. Sure, she could kick Iron and Gold’s asses, but that would just piss off Hi Pan, and put her own Westside assets at risk. Besides, she was soaked and noodles and tea from the best shop in town sounded good. 

She gave pair her shallowest bow. “Tell your Master I have business to conclude, but I would be honored to enjoy some tea and noodles at twenty two hundred.”

Iron’s shoulders tensed at Katrina’s order, but Gold had guessed her game, and smirked as she replied with a curt nod. Together, they crouched and leapt up to the fire escape platform. They left the ladders untouched as they leapt from platform to platform and over the edge of the roof

Alone in the rain, Katrina almost tossed the bat away, when another presence screamed into her senses. How could they have gotten so close? She swung the bat behind her, let it freeze directly at her opponent. 

“Do us both a favor, asshole, take a moment, and consider your options,” Katrina growled. “See, you could be somewhere dry and warm, scrumping the piece of your choice, or you could start a shitstorm and get your brains bashed in with a bat I haven’t even named yet. Its entirely your choice, and I hope you’re smart and choose to fuck the right off.”

“Lil’ Lady, wish I could. But seems like we’re destined to meet.”

The calm, gravelly voice was foreign. His duster was plastered with and wet, but his hat dripped with something other than the rain, the drops fat and golden, melting into stars. Beneath the brim, one eye glowed dull red as he held his hands -- one metal, one flesh -- up in the air.

“Oh fuck,” Katrina said quietly, lowering the bat down to the pavement.  _ Drifter? _


	3. Keeping Tabs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katrina tries to determine Drifter's agenda, and checks on others

Her phone faded into smoke before she could press the speed dial. “Hey-- I’m responsible for the equipment issued to me, you know.”

Drifter tipped his hat. “Sorry Missy, but I’d just as soon you didn’t call in the calvary just yet.” The rain fell hard enough for the water to bounce off the concrete, but no drops hit either of them. 

Katrina noticed that her clothes felt dry, and smelled hot, like they’d baked in the desert sun. “Drifter, I’m under standing orders to call in any contact with a type seven mystic. The Office of Superbeing Relations can provide -- ”

“And I thought y’all had me at class six. Here’s the thing, Missy -- you make that call, and suddenly I’m not dealing with you, but rather a whole team of folks, pokin and probin and asking me what I had for breakfast, and my visions have me meeting you, not a welcoming committee.’”

The last known encounter with Drifter Katrina could remember was when Gravitar had used her control over gravity to uproot Washington DC and lift it hundreds of feet into the air. Drifter had summoned thousands of spectral hands from the ground and catch the nation’s capital before she could make good on her threat to smash it to the ground. And while PRIMUS had insisted that the operation remain in their jurisdiction, they’d shared enough information to allow Project HERMES to upgrade their assessment of Drifter from a category six to a category seven mystic, and the conjecture around Drifters powers and origins ran rampant. Doctor White and Doctor Black however, had seemed only mildly impressed and largely unconcerned, as if Drifter standing toe to toe with one of the most powerful villains ever documented was just how he rolled. 

And if a power like that didn’t want her reporting in, there was little she could do about it. 

_ So much for vacation. _“Fine. No calls. So how can I help you, Drifter?” 

Drifter responded with a thoughtful shrug, his gaze most certainly elsewhere. “Not sure. I’m always where I need to be, but sometimes not clear as to the why of the matter. I might be here just to sort out something out of place. I might be here to help _ you _. Can’t fathom which yet.”

“I don’t need your help,” Katrina said slowly until realization hit, “but know someone who does. She’s an Asgardian Raven who ate Odin’s Eye. She hasn’t been well, and she can’t talk to ravens any more.’

“A raven that ate Odin’s eye sounds a mite sideways from the Asgard directly connected to this here’n’now. Is that the Asgard you destroyed?”

Katrina felt hit in the pit of her stomach. “Destroyed? I thought Asgard was supposed to be renewed after Ragnorok.”

Drifter nodded. “So the prophecy goes, but even Ragnarok ends with something left to begin with. Last time I was there, there was nothing living, man, beast, nor god. I was there when that Ygg tree of theirs finally broke apart, and it all fell away to nothing.”

“Yggdrasil holds up worlds--What --It fell apart?”

“Fell, falls, falling, Leaving behind empty. All that’s left is the Valravn and the Valkyrja.”

“The Valkyrja has turned to stone,” Katrina said. 

“Figures,” Drifter said, scratching at his jaw. “Demigods without a purpose to rally round tend to fade away or turn to sand.”

Katrina felt hot barbs in her stomach as she remembered the manifest from Germany. _ The barrow contained eight boulders, twenty two tons of sand. _ Valkyrja had been mobile then, towering even above the U-80 power suits, whip-thin and terrible, looking as she’d been carved out of the roots of Yggdrasil itself. The axe gripped in her hand was etched bent, but shimmered with barely-restrained fury. Just the sight of her put the Berlin field office on high alert, scrambling for UNITY. 

But three months after Asgard, Valkyrja started brooding in her containment. Even Valravn, so eager to embrace a modern world communing with the world’s ravens, became withdrawn and quiet.

Then the ravens left Valravn’s aerie at the top of UNTIL Headquarters, and Valravn left to follow them to Ravenswood. By then, Valkyrja had become encrusted with stone. _ I destroyed them on the plains of Aegard. The rest was just time. _“Please help me help them.”

“Give a demigod a new purpose? You might as well try to hold a river back with your bare hands. The Valkyrja gathered the battlefield dead and took them to Valhalla. But Valhalla -- at least her Valhalla -- is gone”

“But Valravn didn’t have a purpose. She just --” Katrina stumbled over her thoughts, “She says Odin imprisoned them in something called Ymir’s Heart to make the world forget the Valkyrja and herself.” 

“Ymir’s dead,” Drifter said. “Least last I checked.”

“So did Odin invoke a dead god?” 

“If what she says is true, that would be the gist. But Odin n’ his kin killed Ymir, drowned the rest of Ymir’s people in his blood, and made the world out of his body. That, n’ being Odin’s granddad creates a powerful connection.”

“And a powerful prison, I’d bet. There were there a really long time until some hikers set them free.”

“Now hold on a second. Hikers opened up a prison like that?” Drifter asked.

“There was some sort of incantation. Carved outside the barrow. I guess reading it opened the prison up.”

“Seems a might odd to work so hard to build a prison only to hang the key right outside the door.”

_ A lot of it seemed odd, and just gets odder. _“Can you at least try to help them? Please, just fucking try -- you said you might be here to help me, and I never wanted any of this bullshit magic hoo-ha. Help me by helping them.”

Katrina felt the weight in Drifter’s sigh. “Alright, Missy. I’ll make no promises, but I’ll give it a looksee. Provided, of course, you hand over Lucille, there.” Drifter pointed to the bat.

“Lucille?” Katrina asked as she flipped it around, presenting the handle sideways. Water dripped off the barbs as they glinted in the streetlight.

“Not the name I’d have chosen, but it was named long before you or I got hands on it. I’ll make sure it gets where it needs to go and then take a look at your bird friend. I’m not sure what I can do, but I get the idea we’re not done yet, though, Pyrrhic Victory.”

The name filled Katrina’s veins with ice. “That’s not my name!” Katrina snapped, but Drifter was already gone and the rain found her, splattering against her face, her fists clenched tight until her nails bit into her palms. 

*

Katrina’s thoughts whirled as she stalked toward Lesserman Ave. Drifter said Asgard -- an Asgard connected to Valravn and Valkyrja -- was gone. Damn Destroyer’s ego for thinking he could control what UNTIL had worked so hard to contain. At least UNTIL had considered a containment strategy; PRIMUS wasn’t sure what they had and only suspected there was more to her after they’d stationed her at Greenskin. 

Before that, her assessment -- considering that PRIMUS thought they’d confiscated an experimental super soldier bought by ARGENT on the black market after the fall of the Soviet Union -- was a disappointment. _ Subject Mirinova exhibits high levels of human strength, speed, and hand-eye coordination. She is a quick study and should do well with proper training. Subject is non-responsive to Cyberline. _So much for getting an Avenger out of Stalingrad’s mistake. They’d tested her with at least six different Cyberline batches before they’d finally given up. 

Katrina, when she’d learned enough English to read the report ,hadn’t understood enough to know what an Avenger was. But she did know that they wanted her to fight and kill for them, so at the time, PRIMUS seemed like another force, like ARGENT. Thank God, PRIMUS turned out to be nothing like ARGENT.

A flash of rain-soaked paper on the ground caught her attention. The northern end of Lesserman enjoyed the benefits of new streetlights and urban renewal, thought the last attempt at gentrification had been half hearted at best; the bollards of wildflowers down the parkway were overgrown with dark tangles of weeds. Katrina studied the playbill for a second before scraping it up with the toe of her boot. Playbills on the ground weren’t uncommon, but this playbill -- for Hot Tropic ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ in North Town, felt strategic. Lesserman was a residential area, far from most foot traffic, and North town was too far away for someone to just decide to walk.

Another bill for a club just as savory sat rain-battered at the bottom of a shallow puddle, followed by another, then more criss-crossing over each other until the sidewalk was plastered with topless and fully nude women forming a path to the tenement building up the street. 

“Seems to be a might poor marketing campaign,” Drifter said. 

“Depends on what you’re marketing,” Katrina replied, as she kneeled down to pry up another playbill. 

“Seems t’me what they’re sellin’ is pretty clear, but,” His red gaze lanced toward the tenement building, “That building there is just reekin’ with fear.”

“You would be correct,” Katrina said. “And I’m pretty sure someone put these bills to make them even more afraid.”

“Missy, I know what you think is going on here is important, but it seems like you’ve got more pressing concerns than the poor placement of some girlie bar ads.”

Katrina pinched the bridge of her nose as she stood. “Drifter--”

“Seems you’re fixin’ to disagree, and I get you’re a girl with a big heart, but you have to understand -- there are billions of lives across the universe playing through scenes like this. Someone -- and sometimes that someone is you -- has to make sure there’s even a universe for this all to play out in.”

“I’m not going to argue with you Drifter…”

“And yet, that is exactly what you’re fixin’ to do…”

“I don’t even know how to argue with someone like you, but first, that bat you returned had a name. So do I. It's not Missy, Lassy, Pumpkin, or Buckaroo.”

Drifter’s frown deepened as he shifted. “I ain’t never said Buckaroo. Ever.”

“I’m Sergeant Katrina Mirinova of UNTIL OSR.”

“Well Sergeant, I’m not much the salutin’ type.”

“I’m not asking you to. You can just call me Katrina, or Kat, or I will start calling you Buckaroo. And this here,” Katrina pointed down the block to the tenement building, “also has a name -- the Lesserman Women’s Shelter -- and its pretty rare they’re not close to or completely full of women trying to get out of a bad situation, and this,” She wadded up a flyer in her hand until water oozed between her fingers, “is just some asshole’s way of trying to get under their skins.”

“Seems that fella needs a different hobby.”

“No kidding. Most of the irate exes just try to make them come back, sometimes by force. That’s -- manageable. But the thing is--”

Drifter grunted as he plucked at a flyer. “Is what?”

“--the thing is, I have business in there, and I’d just as soon you didn’t come with me.” Katrina said, full well knowing she couldn’t stop a category seven mystic if she tried. Maybe before, but now --

Drifter looked to the house for a long moment, his jaw set. “Alright Kat. Makes sense, but I gotta keep some eye on you, since my visions say I should, but no sense’n makin’ a bad situation worse.”

Katrina nodded as she stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Thanks. I know it might not seem like much, from the perspective of the universe and all, but I can’t help wondering what good is saving the universe for people to live in when they have to live in fear.”

Drifter's gaze remained on Katrina for a long moment. Katrina could only match the stare. Project HERMES had classified Dr. White and Dr. Black as class five mystics. An entire team spent all their time trying to make their explanations comprehensible. Drifter was -- something else entirely. 

Drifter looked away as if she had disappeared, the light from his eye caught strings of mist. Some of them seemed to recoil from the light. As he walked away, the jingle of Drifter’s spurs echoed along the street with each step, dwindling down Lesserman street. The steps paused, and the glow of that eye was on her, once again and her skin crawled. “Don’t forget you’ve got a noodle date with Lo-Pan. It’d be useful to know what that snake is up to.”

Katrina approached the tenement when Drifter’s gaze had faded away, counting the steps until she was intercepted. The motion sensitive lights came on at a hundred feet, and the camera lights at fifty. Scarcely a dozen feet before the steps movement by the side of the building that activated the lights on the far wall. But those lights lights were blotted out as a form at least twice Katrina’s height slid around the corner. Her head was smooth and oblong with her snout dominated by black with white patches around her eyes. The overall effect would have made her look like a gigantic panda, if not for the fin that protruded from her back. No one would have mistaken Acro for human.

“State your business here,” She huffed out between rows of teeth, then bent down to look closer. “Sergeant, I didn’t know it was you. I was just trying to catch the jerkoff leaving the ads.”

“Catch them and...?” Katherine asked. On Monster Island, disagreements were settled in tooth and claw. Here, those type of settlements had earned Acro a tour of the Millenium City judicial system. Katrina stared down the hybrid Orca’s shrug. 

“And I’d tell them not to litter.”

“Tell?”

“Just tell. But what kind of asshole puts strip-club ads in front of a women’s shelter?”

Kat answered with her own shrug. “The kind you remind not to litter. Make sure to get his height, general build, hair length and hair color for the police. Has Surhoff gone over with you how to get a good description of a human?”

“No. She’s been kinda stuck on the ‘don’t him them’ part.”

“Its an important part. Unless they hit you first. Then make sure you got witnesses. Even then, people break, so telling is good enough -- provided they stick around long enough for you to actually say anything.” 

Acro smiled -- all teeth. Katrina wondered of Moreau had added some shark to his hybrid killer whale. Acro; Orca. That damned bat had a better name. Would he have been impressed she swam through both fresh and salt water to get to Millenium City? So many of the Moreau refugees hadn’t even had names. _ I’m FourteeSevenTwelve. I’m TrialSeven. _

“Most run away before I can get a word out. What brings you here, Sergeant?”

“Just checking in with Ms. Surhoff before going on vacation.”

Acro took out a phone as large as a tablet, the broad oval of her face uplit by its glow. “Well damn. I guess I lose the pool. Most of us bet you never took a vacation. Still, late night for UNTIL business, isn’t it?”

“Late night to for you to be standing out in the rain. Guess we do what we have to.”

Acro stood straighter to look up at the clouds. Fully upright, she could almost touch the streetlamp. “Eh, I don’t mind the rain. Slept in worse when I first got here. I got you to thank for that.”

  
“You got _ you _ to thank for that. Don’t stay out too late.”


	4. Warnings and Reflections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katrina receives advice from a friend, and tries to make peace with her past.

The coffee tasted as if it has been boiled for six hours, and held a bitter, reassuring bite. Despite the cigarette stained walls and the meager “Thank you for not smoking” sign, Nancy Surhoff’s tiny office held for Katrina a certain warmth and sadness. Nancy Surhoff had her red hair tied back in a scraggly ponytail. Still, her face looked a little fuller than Katrina had seen it last. Too thin, Katrina heard her grandmother, or her aunt scoff. With an irritated shrug, she brushed the fractured memory away.

“Kat, didn’t you read the weather report? You’re lucky you didn’t get soaked.”

“Just have to stay under awnings, it's not that bad out,” Katrina lied.  _ The Maniac would worry her, and Drifter -- No.  _ “Thanks for letting me drop by so late.”

“Since you sent Acro to us, there’s been six incidents.”

“You were averaging six a  _ week. _ ”

Nancy Surhoff chuckled. “Word gets around. One guy had a gun. But, aside from a broken wrist, things ‘worked themselves out.’”

“I’m pretty sure bullets would just irritate her. The guy’s lucky she didn’t toss him around like a baby seal.” 

Nancy grimaced. “The men that come around might be deranged and damaged, but don’t deserve a death sentence. At least they’re not so stupid as to actually  _ fight _ Acro.” Nancy pointed out the doorway to the breakroom. Katrina made note of the splintered wood along the sides and top. “Its a tight fit, having her around, but she makes the women feel better,”

“If it weren’t for you, Acro be out on the street until ARGENT, or even VIPER, offered her a gig. You gave her a chance, Ms. Surhoff. I really appreciate that.”

“Pleasure’s been all mine. And you convinced PRIMUS to let MCPD handle Acro’s parole -- not that having an armored truck come down the street once a week didn’t do wonders for the neighborhood watch, but it was hell on the street. Still, social work’s a little out of the bailiwick of an UNTIL liaison, isn’t it?” Nancy asked.

“The Office of Superbeing Relations is here to support heroes.”

“I’m not sure Acro, with her record, exactly qualifies as a--”

“I wasn’t talking about Acro.” Katrina said.

Surhoff blurt out an embarrassed laugh, and shook her head as she plucked at the peeled edging on the splidly table. “Shut up. Still, if you find a wayward lawyer--”

“You? A lawyer?”

“It's amazing how much paperwork goes into keeping someone away who wants to kill you. I spend most of my time in one government office or another. And before you say it, I’ve hit up Uncle Jimmy. I could just use one with super speed.“

“Monster Island isn’t known for its law schools, but I’ll see if anything turns up. Any idea who’s plastering your sidewalk with strip club ads?”

“Not a clue, but this is the fifth time in five weeks, so whoever it is, they’re on the top of my list for the baby seal treatment.”

Katrina chuckled.  _ Everyone has a list _ . “That’s a lot of ads. Someone would have to be out for hours to put those all down. There must have been a few thousand out there.”

“Three thousand six hundred and twenty seven.”

“If the cameras didn’t catch --”

“Nothing, but Jimmy says he knows some experts to look for superspeed on video.”

“I’m sure they’ll do the best they can,” Katrina said, “but their video analyzer is probably from the nineties. Have you talked to the S.A.’s Office about it?”

“You think I should talk to a Silver Avenger Sanchez about some jerk leaving strip club ads?”

“I’m not seeing many situations where this winds up being a run-of-the-mill domestic. If I get involved and don’t loop her in, PRIMUS and UNTIL get all tangled up.”

Nancy Surhoff shook her head. “And by tangled up, you mean someone gets their dick stepped on and there’s all sorts of shouting.”

Katrina chuckled. “Pretty much.”

“I thought you were on vacation.”

Katrina tried to hide her frown as she finished the coffee. “Were you spying on me?”

Nancy Surhoff shrugged. “You’re the one who had us put in the security system.”

“Oh yeah. Well, just taking some time. Orders.”

“Don’t knock good orders. My commander’s a hard nosed bitch.”

“But you work for yourself -- ah,” Katrina said then felt a buzzing in her hoodie pocket. Her phone, returned, flashed a message. “Never mind about playbill fellow. Its handled -D” Katrina read the last words again.  _ Its handled. _

“Something wrong?” Surhoff asked.

Katrina shoved the phone in her pocket. “Nothing.”

“You’re not going to get much of a vacation if you don’t turn that phone off.”

“I know, I know--”

“Kat, listen -- no, just listen. You’ve always been busy, but this last year you have been  _ constant. _ You really should get back to that old routine -- you know the one that had time for a movie occasionally, and you even brought that fellow to the holiday ball--

“Nick. Yeah well -- “ Katrina shook her head. What could she say? OSR classified so much. “It didn’t work out,” Katrina finished with a noncommittal shrug. The silence between them hung like a shroud.

“You should--”

“I can’t really talk about it. Its confidential,” Katrina said with more force than she intended. “Look, I--” She’d intended to apologize, but Nancy only shook her head.

“I get it. Doesn’t matter if its UNTIL or MCPD. You can’t say anything, but you can’t stop me from saying, and I’m saying this as a friend, Kat. I know all about burying myself in work to know a dodge when I see it. Celestar forgot the human part of superhuman and look what that got him.”

_ A nervous breakdown. A deal with Telios. _ “I--”

“Kat, I don’t care what  _ happened _ last year. I care about you, and whatever happened marked you, and I don’t mean that little scar under your eye, little miss, I-can-heal-from-getting-shot. As far as I know, that scar is the only one you’ve got -- at least on the outside. Everyone thought Celestar was fine until he wasn’t, and you’ve got an even better poker face than he ever did, but I’ve known you for four years.”

“You’re afraid I’m going to snap.”

“I’m worried you’re going to collapse. I’m not afraid  _ of _ you. I’m afraid  _ for _ you. You act like you can shake anything off, like some wound that regenerates. I don’t think anyone’s told you that there’s some things aren’t just shaken off. They stick around, and pop up at the damnedest times -- especially around anniversaries. Just promise me you’ll actually use some of this vacation for  _ you _ .”

Katrina tapped out a quick message to Drifter.  _ Meet me in twenty minutes.  _ The return number on the screen didn’t make any sense, but she figured he’d get the message anyway. That would be just enough time, if she was quick.

“Alright, I promise. Thanks for the coffee, Nancy, and everything else. But I gotta go. I’ve got noodles with Hi Pan.”

Nancy grinned. “Oh my dear, you can do so much better.”

“Ha. No. Reminds me. How’s your evacuation plan?”

“From the building?”

“From Wayne County.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Because.”

“UNTIL confidential again? Because that’s starting to sound like one of those questions that’s telling more than its asking.”

_ Because malfunctioning death rays that were modeled after the ones that were used to destroy this city the first time are heading for Millenium City, and while we know who might have those weapons, we don’t know where they are, what they want, and whether they know the weapons don’t work more than they explode in a devastating fashion. One of them is an insane pyromaniac, the other an assassin trained by UNTIL, and knows exactly how we operate. And I’m supposed to enjoy my vacation. _

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

*

Twenty minutes wasn’t much time, but cutting through the construction sites with a little late night parkour helped shave some time. The rain had become a bitter drizzle that dwindled into slivers of mist around Westside Cemetery. Even in the dark, Katrina unerringly chose the right meander through the gravestones, toward the back lot, where the streetlights drenched the monuments in light. The block was modestly recessed in the earth, the grass neatly trimmed away at the edge. In the upper corner, the seal of the Order of Valor, was pressed into the upper right corner of the marble.

Nicholas Stewart

1980-2019

Beloved by Family and Friends

Hero

She knelt by the tombstone and followed the cleancut edge of the letters with her eye and hoped if she read the words enough she’d stop waking up to the sound of his breathing, smell espresso without thinking of those mornings in Italy Row before she’d rush off to UNTIL HQ. Was that why she was working so hard -- to forget?

_ Jesus Nick, I’m sorry. When we started -- whatever we were -- we joked it would last six months, a year tops. Two years in, we were still making that joke. I’m sorry about Ragnarok. I’m sorry that you were indestructible. I’m sorry you were the price.  _

Katrina wiped at her cheeks.  _ Face it Kat, you don’t want to forget. You want to atone. Isn’t that why you’re constantly moving, to outrun Shiva, the destroyer of worlds? Stupid girl, there is no atonement, there’s only tomorrow. _

A flicker of light at the cemetery entrance. Drifter, hat dipped low, a pool of light on the concrete. Katrina shook her head at being immortal, and still not having enough time.

Katrina let the rain wash her face. A memory of church passed by, a young woman bored with the splendor of the cathedral ceiling. Yggdrasil would have been just a funny world, not even a myth. The stars were cold points, then, and if General Alexi Demetri Mirinov knew humanity was not alone in the cosmos, he never told his daughter. She wondered if she would have listened then, or if she’d have jaded her way through it with a shrug. Her sigh hung in the mist. To live the life of Methuselah, possibly longer. 

_ Time. I know you said I should move on, Nick. You told me to, when Asgard was dying. Even Dr. White said a year was proper for mourning. But I think that’s for a normal human -- to go on with their lives and enjoy the time they have left. But I have time -- a lot more time, so I hope you don’t mind if I hang on to you a little longer. I’ll keep my promise and let you go, but -- just not yet. _

At the gate to the cemetery, Drifter tipped his hat. “You can run if you want, but I can pop us to Hi Pan and you’ll hardly break a sweat.”

Katrina nodded as she wrestled with the words. “Drifter, are you immortal?”

“In what sense?”

“Is your life-span eternal?”

Drifter chuckled. “There you go, talkin’ like time’s a string or a line.”

“But, but even then, moving through time, this moment, these moments, they make up a duration. Isn’t that linear?”

“No, its not. Katrina, by the reckoning of this reality and perhaps a dozen others, I’ve died more times than I can or care to remember. It's change of being. You’ve died a couple times yourself, haven’t you?”

Katrina caught her breath. Did he know, or was he being metaphorical? Dr Blacks words crept back.  _ An advanced mystic is so free from your reality that you will have no choice but to decide they are insane. _

“Maybe I have. Lets go get some noodles.”


	5. Noodles with Hi Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Katrina narrowly escapes dinner.

Two soldiers in cord-and-plaque armor, their queues immaculate, marched in unison to a deep, rhythmic drumbeat on either side of the long rosewood table. The litter between them cradled an ornate silver tureen, filigreed with the slender, graceful loops of dragons in flight. The other tables and chairs in the restaurant were stacked in balanced rows on the opposite walls.

With a tap of Hi Pan’s long, black finger nail, the drumming stopped . The tureen lowered to rest in front of Katrina. Gold, dressed in a green pien fu, floated to the table, bowed low, and with a flourish removed the lid. Katrina, engulfed in a steamy wave of anise, chrysanthemum, and ginger indicated her thanks to Gold with a shallow nod, her brows arched in mild surprise.

_ Now you’re serving me soup. _Katrina taunted Gold with a smile. Gold’s eyes narrowed and her hand clenched around the handle of the lid.

_ Everything alright over there? _Katrina thought with a glance to the corner, where a hasty card table had been set up where Drifter -- in the form of a thin, pasty man with a bald head and wild patches of hair behind his ears, sat uncomfortably. He clutched his briefcase to his chest, carefully arranging a trio of crystals around his place setting. 

_ They gave me a fork. _Drifters thoughts resonated through her head like the drums.

Katrina glanced down to her porcelain spoon, gilt in gold and red meander in its matching rest and gleaming brass chopsticks etched with delicate characters.

_ Oh. _

_ And a paper napkin. I’m beginning to think this fella doesn’t like me. _

_ You don’t have anything he wants. _

_ And what does he want from you? _

_ Always a good question when dealing with Hi Pan. _

_ Based on those couple dozen guys in the kitchen, he wants your blood. _

Katrina had spotted the kitchen door when she had come in. Of course Hi Pan had positioned her seat so it faced away from the kitchen. 

_ Sounds about right. _With a word, maybe not even a word, Katrina would be trapped -- Hi Pan and Iron on one side, Gold and Hi Pan’s warriors on the other.

“It is not easy, to re-establish the feng-shui of the room with our unannounced guest,” Hi Pan said, “but we are, among other things, accommodating.”

Katrina pasted on a smile. “I am most grateful. I think you can understand how foolish I would be if I had visited with the great Hi Pan, as unversed in the mysteries as I am, without some sort of--”

“Protection?” Hi Pan asked with small titter.

“Naturally.”

“Why you must see yourself as a mouse in the talons of the hawk! Of course I can understand your prudence. But all you could find was _ him_?”

“Given more notice, I’m sure many mystics, even the Doctors themselves, would have been honored, but alas, they are indisposed. Besides that would require paperwork, and based on the invitation, I felt discretion was in order.”

“Your discretion, Sergeant Mirinova, is always appreciated. Where did you say Mr. Hendrix was from?”

“Here and there,” Drifter/Hendrix said, “see, I’m--”

“Now Jim,” Katrina said, as if addressing a child, “I am grateful for your assistance,but remember what we agreed to. Only speak when you are addressed directly in the presence of Hi Pan.” she smiled to Hi Pan. “My apologies. He’s from our Spokane Office. ”

_ I’m thinking you’re enjoyin’ this arrangement a bit much. _Drifter’s thoughts wafted sullen in her mind.

_ And you can’t talk without sounding like a high-caliber mystic. If Hi Pan even suspects the kind of talent that you are -- just eat your Lucky Sumo Bowl. _

_ Not sure I’m going to cotton on anything from the kids menu. The fish cake is shaped like -- _

Katrina tore her attention away from Drifter. “This soup is more art than cuisine, Hi Pan. You have truly outdone anything on your already amazing menu.”

Hi Pan’s tureen, a mighty bronze bowl with silver filigree floated through the air guided by his taloned hand. Iron, close to Hi Pan’s side, ducked at it swooped across the table to land neatly in front of Hi Pan, the lid floating straight upward to a flourish of steam. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Hi Pan gushed. “Most snake soups are made with two, maybe three types of snake, but I have made this with Chinese Python, Tri-rope Beauty Snake, Rat Snake, _ and _ the Hundred-Paced Viper! Do you know how hard it is to find Hundred-Paced Viper? Why Vipers of any sort are scarce these days.” He seized his chopsticks and spoon as weapons. “Shall we?”

The noodles were thick udon that she cut with her spoon to layer it as a base with some pink flesh on to, surrounded by a small lake of broth.

_ Poison? _ She thought to Drifter.

_ First you fret about livin’ forever and then fret about dyin’. No, it ain’t poisoned. _

Katrina ate a spoonful and chewed thoughtfully. Years ago, Nick had to all but begged her to go, and Katrina conceded it was the best noodle house in the city, despite its criminal owner. _ I’d decided to keep him then, _Katrina thought with a look to where ‘their table’ had been. 

“And?” Hi Pan asked, leaning forward, his hands holding on to his tureen, a gleam in his eye, that yanked Katrina from reverie.

Katrina swallowed. “Exquisite. I’ve never had anything like it,” Hi Pan’s glee at her appreciation made her uneasy. “I had no idea that VIPER was becoming harder to find.” She made a mental note to check in with Project Snakecharmer when she returned to see if they had noticed any movement.

“And here I thought UNTIL spent its time studying snakes. Perhaps they have slithered off to clean up their mess in Montana?” Hi Pan asked with a knowing pause.

“I am always amazed how well informed you are, Hi Pan. But secrets are a secondary currency in the high end escort trade, no?”

“All kinds of creatures enjoy warmth and companionship, whether they are snakes or soldiers.”

Katrina used several more bites to think, enjoy the soup, and let Hi Pan stew for a bit. The Mad Magician of Westside knew more than she’d thought he did. If the leak was in UNTIL, she’d have to let Clay’s office know. But the soldiers Hi Pan hinted at could be PRIMUS, too. That meant looping Kutter in.

At her sixth spoonful of rich snake with firm noodles, Hi Pan drummed his nails. When he spoke, his voice was brittle with impatience. “I’m so glad you are enjoying the soup.” 

“Thank you, I am. It is a shame about the VIPER, being scarce. They’re not known for cleaning up their own messes, though. If they are leaving, its because what happened in Montana could happen here in Millennium City.”

Hi Pan’s expression of boredom melted away. “What happened in Montana made a mountain tremble. So the snakes aren’t leaving, they’re running away.”

“That would be my guess. Seems someone took their toys in Montana and aims to bring them here.”

Drifter’s thoughts pressed against her will. _ Seems like you’re being a might forthcoming to this scumbag. _

_ Hi Pan wants to rule the world, starting with Millenium City. Can’t rule a crater. _

_ Hmm y’might have a point. _

“Those that steal from VIPER are not known for their long lives. Any idea who these walking corpses are?”

“Names have been thrown around,” Katrina said, plucking at her noodles.

“What names?”

Katrina paused for another bit of soup. “If I shared, you’d be able to use their unfortunate position with VIPER as leverage.”

Hi Pan steepled his fingers. “Very astute of you, Ms Mirinova.”

“In essence, they become yours. _ Unless I get them first. _So, if you were to know who has recently been in contact with them--”

His smile tightened. “Then their employer is yours.”

“You gain potential mercenaries and I gain their boss -- seems a reasonable enough trade.”

“Except that am now an UNTIL informant,” Hi Pan said with a flourish of his chopstick. “It is not a reputation I desire, but I’m sure we can come to an accord.”

_ I’m guessin he’s fixing to make sure you don’t be alive long enough to use what he’s telling you. _

_ In that case, I hope he’s over confident enough to tell me everything. _

“I hope we can. I’ve got two suspects. One is Blowtorch.”

Hi Pan scowled. “That psychopath? He should have stuck to burning warehouses. I prefer my enforcers more discreet. However, considering how obsessed with revenge his employer is -- so angry over a stepmother. He must be purple with range!”

Katrina forced herself to hide her annoyance Hi Pan and his riddles. _ Millennium City is full revenge-happy children -- and purple? Purple Gang? Poe nearly wipe out PSI -- but Medusa is already dead, isn’t she? Or is she? Could Poe have done all this to finally wipe PSI off the map? _

Katrina tried to convey only mild interest as she sat back in the chair. “And how is Kevin Poe these days?”

Hi Pan’s smile sliced across the table. “He and I have an accord, and he seems to have little interest in ruling Westside these days. Not that he hasn’t been busy. The Purples have been frantic as of late, looking for, among others, Blowtorch. Perhaps the other name you’d have for me is Scimitar? I have heard his skills are rival to Iron and Gold’s.”

_ Better _ . Katrina thought, with barely a glance toward the pair. _ With a sword just as deadly. _ “That name has come up.”

“Well then! Now that I have confirmed their involvement, I have leverage against Blowtorch, Scimitar _ and _ Kevin Poe! Now, his Purple Gang will do my bidding!” Hi Pan rose in triumph. “I do hope you enjoyed your last meal, Katrina Mirinova. Iron, dispose of her tedious crystal hugger. Gold, you --”

Iron’s surprised yawp carried through the room as drift and the card table simply melted and the Lucky Sumo Bowl fell to the floor with a crash.

_ Time for us to be going, Kat _

_ Thanks, I’ll see myself out. _Katrina thought back and while everyone was looking back, whirled her chair around, hefting the soup tureen. The kitchen door sprung open, a chef hurling his cleaver with a yell. Katrina twisted, ricocheting the cleaver off the tureen to send it flying toward Hi Pan. Gold slapped the it out of the way with a contemptuous swipe of her blade, but Katrina had already hurled the tureen toward the chef, catching him in the chest. The chef staggered back against his fellows and back through the kitchen door. 

She snatched up the chopsticks in one hand, and seized the back of her chair with the other. She hurled the chair toward Iron, not looking to see if it hit him as she leapt to the kitchen door, kicking it hard enough to slam the cook trying to get through it backward. 

Drifter hadn’t been kidding. At least two dozen chefs with cleavers rushed forward with a howl. With a quick glance, she had their positions, and knew how they’d move, operating as a pack. The first she flung behind her, toward the door to slow down Iron and Gold. She parried a cleaver with both chopsticks in one hand, and followed up with a quick punch the weilder’s throat. She kicked a pot off the stove, sending a wave of boiling broth in front, forcing them back. They circled as Katrina twirled the chopsticks in her fingers. The kitchen door burst open, Gold slipped in first, then Iron. The chefs rushed, clearly not wanting to seem cowards in front of Iron and Gold. Katrina bent back to avoid a slashing cleaver, and lunged with the chopsticks, catching him in the armpit. His grip on the cleaver went slack. Katrina snatched it out of the air and she flung it back at Gold, embedding it in the wall as a lock of onyx hair slid from Gold’s shoulder. Gold glanced down at the hair and seethed. 

Katrina sensed Iron’s rush, kicked back at two more chefs, then twisted, using the chopsticks and her grip on his arm to force him between her and Iron. The chef struggled until she head butted him. Stunned, he stared at her, glassy eyed until Iron’s sword split him from head to sternum, the tip biting into Katrina’s shoulder.

She shoved the corpse back against Iron. “You _ asshole. _ He was on your side.” 

A change in the feel of the room was enough for Katrina to crouch down as the wall between the kitchen and dining room exploded inward. Hi Pan floated off the floor suspended by a crawling arcs of lightning.

“Foolish girl, I have wasted enough time with you. Now you shall taste the fury of the storms!!”

Two of the crawling arcs surged forward, blasting through the bags of rice Katrina used as cover. She spun, skidding under a table so low she barely had height to turn herself over. The table shuddered under the barrage of lightning. Her exit from beneath the table was cut off by a twisting bolt of lightning. She saw Iron kneel down his sword in both hands. The metal table burned her back as she pressed upward. She could see the lettering on Iron’s blade as it slide beneath her.

_ Time’s a wastin’ Kat. _

_ A little busy, Drifter. I’m being chased by lightning. _

_ Get close to metal. Lightning likes to go to ground. _

Glowing amber drops of melting table burned blackened pits into the floor. Her shelter underneath had become an oven. Katrina slithered to the other end only to have her escape cut off by the flash of Gold’s blade.

_ Not working. It seems to think I’m ground. _

_ Oh, that kind of lightnin’. Wonder how it knows you. Need help? _

_ There’s only one way it could know me. Thanks, you’ve already helped. _Katrina took a chopstick in each hand and flicked them simultaneously out from under the table. One slid under Gold’s pien fu. The other was stopped by a hard stomp from Iron’s boot. 

The bolts coalesced into a brilliant flash. Iron and Gold pair fell in heaps. Katrina scrambled from beneath the warped table that ticked as it cooled. Hi Pan was gone. She knelt by Gold’s form, satisfied to find that she still had a pulse. _ Fuck Iron, _ she thought, with a glance to his steaming armor.

What remained of Hi Pan’s force remained backed up against the freezer. 

“I didn’t get a fortune cookie,” Katrina said, retrieving a cleaver for each hand and pacing in front of them.

They dropped their weapons.

“I want,” Katrina shouted, “My goddamned cookie.” She scanned the floor for a crumpled tin and picked a few packets until she found one more cookie than powder. “You tell Hi Pan that he’s getting a shitty yelp review.” Katrina shoved her way out the back exit.

Drifter huddled in his duster by the dumpster. “I hope the soup was worth it.”

“The information was. Let's go see Valravn.”

“Already did,” Drifter said, “And not meaning to sound too much like a doctor, I think she needs a specialist.”

“I’ve talked to the Norse at Sheras. Bunch of fucking dimwits--”

“You know, you’re hardly gonna win many friends with all that damn swearing. No, I mean a specialist in ravens. Ravenspeaker.”

“Huh. That actually makes sense.” Katrina tested her shoulder, wincing. “So we’re going to go talk to him?”

“Seems as good as place as any. Drifter nodded to her shoulder. “Want any help with that? You got a bit o’ blood there.” Then to her leg. “N’ there.”

“Most of its not mine. I’ll heal.” Katrina opened the fortune cookie, surprised at how fresh the shards of cookie tasted. She carefully teased apart the fortune.

_ Your victory means nothing, Mirinova _

_ Scimitar will chop you to pieces, and you will hang _

_ in the hell of a thousand hooks for all eternity! _

Katrina wadded up the paper and stuffed it in her pocket.

“If it's any consolation I never take any stock in them things,” Drifter said.

“It's a shitty haiku anyway. Let's go.”


	6. Shadows in the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they follow Ravenspeaker, Katrina sees visions of the past and future

Drifter spun and picked direction as a chilling shroud of mist glowed from the streetlights. 

“The direct route is faster, and I have faith you can handle yourself. But you might experience things that are a mite uncomfortable, but they can’t hurt you ‘nless you let them.”

“Are they real?” Katrina asked.  _ No armor. Not even a sidearm. Some vacation this is shaping out to be. _

“In some senses, as real as you or I. Things that are, things that could have been. Most are harmless.”

“Alright, but before we go, what did you mean when you texted me ‘It’s handled’?” Katrina asked, remembering Drifter’s cryptic message on her phone.

“Wasn’t hard to find the fella, and help him think of other things. When you get right to it, violence is a ritual all its own. People get trapped in rituals, whether its in a church, a bottle or your fists. For example, I could have slipped through Hi Pan’s wards and had you out n a heartbeat. But you wanted to fight your way out.”

Katrina shrugged, Iron’s cut already had that itchy, rubbery feel. “Yeah, but they started it”

“Just like you knew they would. You took the long way to get yourself a scrap.”

_ It was like arguing with The Doctors. _ Katrina thought and in that moment Drifter was gone and she was flanked by the Doctors. Their forms wavering as if they were underwater. Dr Black in his flowing ebony robes, and Dr. White in her more practical pantsuit. Katrina looked for Drifter, but there was only mist.

_ She emerges from the dark crucible that is PRIMUS, a bearer of shadow!  _ Dr. Black said with a theatrical wave of his arms.

Katrina shook her head as she followed their brisk pace. “Primus wasn’t that bad -- sure, there was Project Greenskin--”

_It may seem like a large facility now_ Dr. White said. _But between your natural sense of direction and comm map, you’ll be navigating like a veteran in no time. The_ _UNITY wing is down that hallway to the end. _In her opalescent hand was a comm unit -- one of the older models, at least two versions back.

It took Katrina a moment to make sense of his words. “You’re not really hearing me, are you?”  _ Its my first day with UNTIL. Everything seemed so strange. More classes than training, feeling like I’d made a mistake. Seeing the Doctors had been such a relief. _

_ An excellent question!  _ Dr. Black said.  _ And yes, you did apply to the New York office, but the threads of your destiny woven into the skein of eternity-- _

_ Skein of eternity aside,  _ Dr. White said, cutting off Dr. Black’s monologue with a light touch on his shoulder,  _ Major Clay asked us what to do with you and we want you here. _

_ Why? _ Katrina heard another voice -- her own, but not from her. The apparition could have been her twin, but her hair was still in a PRIMUS buzzcut. Shoulders back, hands stiff at her sides, jaw set. Still getting used to UNTIL tactical wear. Her eyes held the dubious caution.

_ Because--  _ Dr Black said.

_ \-- Everything is in a place --  _ Dr. White said.

_ \-- For a reason. And you --  _

_ \-- For now --  _ Dr White said.

_ Belong here. _

Their sentences flowed as one thought, shared. Katrina’s spectral self looked back and forth between them, confused and suspicious. Their laughter held a joy that she barely remembered. Later, she’d realize that sometimes she felt lonely, caught in the constant play between the Doctors. As they guided her shade down a steel hallway, the Doctors looked back, right at Katrina and shrugged before the trio of shades passed through the far wall.

Her breath caught. She remembered them looking back, at what back them had seemed to be nothing. She patted the wall they had passed through with the flat of her hand, surprised at its solidity.  _ They couldn’t have possibly have seen-- _

Voices around the corner cut off her thought. Katrina saw another shade of herself. This Katrina had let her hair grow out some, and her accent had faded to a lilt. The man she spoke to was almost as familiar, lean, with a shock of dark curly hair that made him look even taller.  _ Nick _ . Part of Katrina wanted to tear herself from watching them, but she clung to the corner, riveted.

Nick held up a chart and followed the descending line with his finger. “With the retrothrusters the Air-cavalry gave me, I can slow my descent rate by at least thirty percent in the last three meters of my leap, which will slow down the resultant kinetic transfer by at least -- did you hear what I was saying?”

“Something about retrodescent and kinetic. So no more tearing up the concrete when you leap into the middle of a fight and flail around?”

His laugh was infectious. “Is that what you think I do?”

“I’ve seen the video. I know that’s what you do. One of these days you’re going to get hurt.”

“The Adamant armor is indestructible.”

“Nothing is indestructible, Mr. Stewart.”

“Says you. Only the concrete is safe from me now, so Chief Surhoff can stop sending bills and demanding that my Affiliate Status be revoked. And I was thinking--”

“If its about retrothrusters, I have work--”

“I was thinking you could come with me when I patrol.”

“Oh?” 

Nick snapped to a facade of attention. “Section 13 of the Affiliate Charter says that Affiliate heroes can be accompanied by Office of Superhuman Relation Liaisons to evaluate and improve performance.”

Katrina’s shade mocked applause. “A+ on regulation, but if you lock your knees like that you’ll pass out.”

“Just one of the many things I could learn from you, Corporal Mirinova.” Both Katrina and her shade smirked at the innuendo.

Her reply contained a nervous laugh. “About that. Mr. Stewart, I-- “ 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, his voice with that rich, serious tone.

_ Oh stop fidgeting like a school girl and spit it out.  _ Katrina thought to herself. 

“I’m thinking that perhaps another Liaison could handle your Affiliation.”

After a moment, paused. If he’d have argued -- but he didn’t. Nick nodded and occuped his gaze by folded up his chart. “Sure. I mean, of course, and Corporal, I’m sorry if--”

“No no, Wait, I don’t think you understand. Section 12 completely forbids outside fraternization between OSR Liasions and Affiliate Heroes.”

Nick stopped mid-fold. “Oh. I’m feeling pretty stupid here.”

“You have three advanced degrees.”

“Which means I’ve learned to know when I’m stupid. Does uh, fraternization include going out for noodles?”

“Fraternization covers a lot of things.” Katrina said, and pretended to ignore Nick’s blush as he fumbled the chart closed. “Noodles would be nice.”

“I know a place. Really authentic. How long before you put in request?”

“Already did. So after I introduce you to my replacement, you don’t have to call me Corporal anymore.”

“And you can call me Nick instead of Mr. Stewart. What do I call you?”

_ Anything you like.  _ “Kat’s fine.” _ _

A small sound caused Katrina to turn away from the shades. The corrugated floor had become oak strips; the hallway a small gymnasium, a ballet bar along the far wall. The sound had come from a woman. Her chestnut hair in a tight circular braid on her head, wrapped within a robin’s egg robe. The woman could have been her sister -- and older sister with laugh lines in her eyes and a form that was soft -- matronly, mother called it.

“And here I thought I was having trouble sleeping,'' the woman said her Russion smooth from a lifetime of use, “But what a strange dream you are.” Her voice was like Katrina’s but older, perhaps a little weary.

Katrina felt herself smile. “I guess I could be your dream, or are you mine?”

The woman stepped closer, peering into Katrina’s face like a mirror. “Ah, you even sound like me. How like me to dream of my younger self before Alexi’s wedding. Are you a memory, perhaps? But I never wore my hair so, Bohdan would have been heartsick to see it so short.”

“Bohdan?”

“My husband. You don’t look that much younger to have forgotten Bohdan.” Her face flickered with a suspicion Katrina knew well. “Who  _ are  _ you?”

“I’m just a dream,” Katrina said, wracking her mind to remember a Bohdan. “How did you meet Bohdan?”

“I’ve never met a forgetful ghost before,” she said and circled Katrina. “Papa introduced us at an officer’s reception. I hadn’t wanted to go, even though I was presenting on propulsion systems. Bohdan was a researcher in metallurgy. I was sure Papa had arranged the seating for us to be next to each other, but I talked to him anyway. Six months later he proposed; twenty years later andI get to watch my son get married. I couldn’t be prouder.”

“Congratulations,” Katrina said out of reflex. “When did you--I mean, we -- get married?”

“1992. Such a strange question. How could you forget that? I’m beginning to think you only look like me, shade.” 

_ I was still in the incubation and wouldn’t be out until what, ‘95, ‘96?  _ “Do you remember anything about a … chamber? One of Papa’s projects?”

The woman shook her head. “No, though Papa rarely talked about his projects. I swear he knows more about what he can’t say than what he can these days.”

“What about -- There was a party in 1985 -- I took Papa’s car because Uri said he could drive, and had his brother’s license. 

“Oh yes, I remember that night. I was such a fool then -- Papa and I had such a fight, and he was determined I would not go out with Uri. He grounded me to my room and I was determined to leave and never return. Papa always left his keys in the foyer and it would have been so easy--

Katrina remembered the keys cutting into her hand as she slipped out the door. “But--”

“--but he knocked on my door and we talked in gentler voices. I still didn’t like it, but I stayed and Uri -- poor Uri -- that’s the night he died. I saw the car later -- it was such a wreck.

_ I took the keys _ , Katrina thought,  _ and Uri took the curve too fast and went into the ravine.  _ She winced at the vision of the road disappearing beneath the headlights until there were trees. After the scritch of breaking glass there was -- nothing. 

She opened her eyes to the ruin of the car, its front end crumpled against a granite boulder all the way to the windshield. The twisted metal clicked as it cooled while the smell of petrol burned her nose. Uri -- almost a full grown man, had flown through the windshield. The girl next to him had not. Captured in a web of shattered glass and crimson, the slash in her neck sputtered obscenely. 

_ This is how I died. So much for makeup, so much for stockings. You’re just bloody meat, girl. I don’t even know if I’m you, or if I just sit in your skin.  _

There were men in containment suits, their visors reflecting the stars. Uri they left for the rats and the crows. The girl they bagged, carefully scraping the windshield with a perverse attention to detail. The ravine glowed red as the Hoplight chopper dipped into the ravine, the bag was hooked to the Hoplight’s line, and in the air. The men left. The ravine darkness shrouded Uri and the car.

_ When I get back to Grozny,  _ Katrina thought to herself, _ I’ll look for the car.  _ She stopped breathing and felt the beat of the Hoplight, miles away.  _ Well Papa, hardly the best candidate for a super-soldier, Command must have been furious. I have plied every favor I can with the UNTIL Moscow Office to find out what happened. Major Clay must have written a dozen memos. Moscow would have torn UNTIL apart to keep their secret. Stubborn. Papa said I came by it honestly.  _

When she opened her eyes, there was Drifter. “Sorry, Kat. I should have warned you about wandering off. Easy now, deep breaths ” 

Katrina braced herself against her knees and took breaths until the shuddering went away.  _ She’d seemed so content. _ “I didn’t wander off.”

“So you say. What did you see?”

“I think--I think I became someone else’s ghost.”

“Keep talkin’ like that I expect you’ll be on a first-name basis with the Trismegestus Council before long.”

“No thanks, I prefer things I can shoot at,” Katrina said. She tried to sound nonchalant, but her laugh was unsteady. 

“Well, you’ve probably reckoned this yourself, but Ravenspeaker ain’t in Canada, so this isn’t quite the jaunt I was expecting, and you’re not exactly the quietest thing to be lugging along, with all that you carry with you.”

Katrina didn’t hide her bewilderment. “What? What the actual fuck does that even mean?”

“It means,” Drifter said, “It means, lookin’ at you, I see The Battles of Heraclea and Asculum. I hear cannon fire in the village of Malplaquet. I see the Bunker Hill covered in the corpses of young men, and a dead tree that touches the sky. You’re windward of the apocalypse.”

He pointed to the scar just under her eye. “And I see a wound of something you cut off and threw away.”

Katrina frowned into the mist. “And where is it that we’re going to, exactly?”

The glow of Drifter’s eye turned the mist crimson. “Ravenspeaker’s a wily one.”

“Which means?”

Drifter slowly surveyed the mist, until he stopped at a facing. “Which means I don’t rightly know.”

*

The asphalt hardened into cobblestones after several miles and further on were reduced to the dry crunch of gravel. At junctures, Drifter would stop, carefully survey them both, and pick a direction. Inwardly, Katrina made a game of guessing which branch he would take, pleased she was right more often than not. 

“So Kat, when did you realize you were Pyrrhic Victory?”

_ None of your damned business. _ Katrina thought, then considered a more diplomatic approach. Besides, if anyone could make sense of it, maybe even back to Grozny…

“I didn’t understand the whole ‘personification of a concept’ thing until Dr. White told me. But I think it was when I beat Mentiac at chess.”

“He’s a pretty smart fella, and he doesn't lose often.”

“He doesn’t, and he figured anyone who can beat him at chess should be a mix of Einstein, George Washington Carver, Socrates and Ada Lovelace all wrapped into one. Instead it was me, whose last hint of school had been PRIMUS GED programs. He was the first real hero from UNITY I’d met, and I really wanted to impress him as much as he impressed me. 

“I would have guessed a soldier like you would have been more impressed with Myrmidon.”

He was too, they all were, but I always got the sense that Mentiac kind of saw the world the same way I did, just the way he looked at everything and so little escaped his attention.

“You picked that up about him just meeting him? Well, you’re just full of tricks. How’d you do that?”

“I watched him the same way I watch everyone. I sized him up as a potential opponent.”

Drifter paused. “Everyone.” 

Katrina shrugged in helplessness. “No offense. It’s impossible not to, like trying not to see the color red. It's just -- how I see things. Even now, with Hi Pan’s men, I knew where they would be because I had a sense of their training, their weapons and how they fought. Being stronger and faster can only get you so far,. But Mentiac, he’d finish people’s sentences, because he had already worked out what they were going to say. After I beat him in chess, he did it to me all the time. Just to prove he could.”

“Sounds to me like he wasn’t a very likable fella, and sore at you cuz he lost a chess match.”

“I thought so too at first. And I was so proud of myself for that moment when realized he was going to lose. He just shoved the board away and said he had better things to do. I’m sure he could see how proud I was, and the days after, by just  _ looking _ at him I could rub his nose in it.”

“No one likes a sore winner.”

“Yeah well, it’s not like I had much in the line of social graces back then. Everyone else on base had been just crushed by him once, maybe twice. And he was a pretty terrible winner -- looking all bored when they set up a couple dozen boards at once for simultaneous games. He’d humiliated them all. All these guys who barely knew me were clapping me on the shoulder like they’d won the match themselves. I still remember Private Lane, saying to me “Guess you showed the Freak.” Katrina shook her head with a dry laugh. “That was their name for him. Freak.” 

Drifter shook his head. “Games have a way of bringing out the inner child. Sometimes that child is filled with delight. Sometimes they’re a little shit.”

Katrina paused, “Listen to the mouth on you.”

“I’ve seen and been more kids than I can remember, and its best to focus on the good parts and forget those like your Private Lane.”

“I know Mentiac sounds like a brat, but Dr. White showed me what was eating him up wasn’t that I beat him, but that he couldn’t figure out  _ how  _ I won. Nothing gets under his skin like an unsolvable equation. Enough that he started digging into the old lab notes that had survived with the my incubation chamber. I found out and told Dr. White I wanted to see the notes on my creation too, but Dr. White put her foot down and made Mentiac stop immediately. Closest I got to flat out rebelling against the Doctors until Dr. Black said the notes were…”

“Incomprehensible?”

“Sanity challenging.” Katrina said with a wary glance toward the Mist. It was the most serious she’d seen Doctor Black, and the only time he’d said he’d go to Major Clay to order her to stop.

“Huh. Comprehending the Incomprehensible in only four dimensions can do that to a person. But he’s also got a pretty strong mind.”

“He straightened out in a day or two, but still. I felt bad about it. Wish I’d have thrown the game of chess.”

“But you didn’t know that was going to happen -- or did you?” Drifter’s boots kicked up clouds on a sandy trail.

“I knew something would happen, I just thought using it for something so small wouldn’t be so bad. And to be honest, I wanted to win, and that was all that mattered.”

“So even then you suspected something was up.”

“I suppose I did. I don’t have perfect memory like Mentiac, but I can remember fights -- how people move, their tactics -- and I can learn from them. And sometimes things -- didn’t add up. I’d run them over and over, trying to figure it out.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t go a mite crazy yourself. But I’m guessin’ you saw a pattern there.”

Back then, I focused on the victory, and the cost was just something else that happened. It took time to focus on the price, and I just really wanted to win, and I couldn’t envision the price as much as the victory then. I got better at it.”

“An ability like that is dangerous to practice with.”

The road turned into asphalt under their feet. “Yeah, but in retrospect, while I wasn’t practicing with it, PRIMUS had been, so I could learn from that.”

“PRIMUS working with that kind of ability, sounds like a whole deck of black Aces. I’d hope UNTIL, with all their crystal huggers, would have more sense.”

“I think they had an idea they could use me as a last-ditch trick when the cause was all but lost. UNTIL stuck me in in OSR in the hopes I wouldn’t see combat.”

“Trying to bend a concept to your will is something even cosmic powers don’t mess with lightly. Some hold that the universe was started with a Word, and even that didn’t pan like as planned.”

“Maybe, but that wasn’t something PRIMUS was considering, and while they could easily tell when I was regenerating or shooting, knowing when I’m picturing arranging victory and a price wasn’t something they could easily detect. So most of the time I didn’t, and just took my lumps in training. But it meant more dangerous field assignments and bad breaks for my team. The Silver Avengers didn’t have much use for me since cyberline didn’t even cause a blip in me, and so I was just a failed soviet super soldier with some skills. But they still treated me well, and even set up time with UNTIL social development.”

“Social Development?”

“Sure, refugees from other planets and Monster Island don’t know how the modern world works so there’s a whole program for socialization. Teach them customs. Sergeant Kutter figured it was a way to smooth out the rough edges I had from being with ARGENT, who really only cared that I knew what a toilet was, could follow orders and shoot things.”

“Least you had the basics.”

“Mostly. But that’s where I met the Doctors and they kind of got me more into the world. So when I had the chance, I signed up for UNTIL.”

“We’re here.”


	7. Stepping Off The Edge of Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katrina starts in a memory not her own and encounters a strange substance.

For a moment, Katrina wondered if they had taken a wide circle and were back in Millennium City. “Did we just miss Ravenspeaker on his way to us?”

Drifter sniffed the air as he looked around. Katrina sensed it too, the dry air held no hint of rain, but was the warm, moist air of a late MIchigan Summer. The broad green leaves of the maple trees that lined the street glistened with their first flecks of gold. 

“Same where.” He said. “Different when.”

Katrina scanned the squat apartment building in front of them. Her breath caught. “You sure this is the right place?”

“Ravenspeaker’s close.”

“Is he now?” Katrina asked with a soft chill in her voice.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

Katrina bounded up the stairs. _ Their _ stairs into their foyer with the cramped rows of mailboxes and their thin slots and tiny metal locks that Katrina picked when Nick lost the key. She kicked the can that propped open their security door and went up another set of their stairs and down their hallway with the plexiglass sconces and mauve carpet with alternating green diamonds. In front of their door, 26.

_ Why are you here, Ravenspeaker? Why are you sticking your nose into my-- _

He hand froze on the door at the sound of a woman’s laugh from behind their door. Her laugh, soft and warm and intimate. Drifter had said a different when -- but when? And then his voice. Nick -- a voice she woke up to for over a year, that warm, sincere, on the edge of chuckling voice that rushed in a firefight, or in bed. Oh how he’d been horrified when she’d pointed that out!

“Its alright,” Drifter said from behind. “They won’t see you. This isn’t a where or when, but a memory.”

“Nothing about this,” Katrina whispered, biting back the urge to tell Drifter to get out. “Is alright. I remember pieces, but I don’t remember exactly this.” 

“That’s because this isn’t your memory,” Drifter said. A chill rippled across Katrina’s spine. _ It could only be Nicks, but how does a memory live beyond… _

She pressed her ear at the door. The voices melted into silence. With a soft click, the door swung open and Katrina nearly fell into herself, or the memory of herself, who strode quickly through both Katrina and drifter, smart in her UNTIL uniform. Inside was their home, the shelves with his books, and those strange parts he collected -- the moment had to be at least a year ago. 

_ Don’t go, you idiot! _Katrina tracked her doppleganger down the hall and out the door. 

Nick, those beautiful dark curls all atangle, ambled their apartment as Katrina followed as a ghost. She teased back the memory as he sipped his coffee. Why hadn’t she stayed? Back to back inspection from New York UNTIL and PRIMUS brass had everyone in a rush, and Nick had wanted her to linger. _ No time _ she’d said, kissing him quickly, _ Tell me tonight. _

But tonight hadn’t come, because of the virus in SOCRATES had triggered the ADIS system and sent to her to Dr. Destroyer’s lackey Dr. Menlus for ‘re-programming’. Menlus, whose arrogance matched his master’s, didn’t even realize they were both being played by Odin. But who on, or off-earth, could have possibly suspected that?

As she watched Nick read and sip his coffee, she fought the urge to touch his bare shoulders, but instead paced the apartment. Barely more than a studio apartment, their scents commingled with coffee, her fingertips caressing the warmth of their bed. She hovered behind him, absorbing his presence. He sighed, fumbling in his pocket, setting a small black box on the bookshelf. 

_ I wouldn’t see that box until Asgard _ . She thought. _ All this time, I thought he bought it after the ADIS incident. You could have brought a suit of tactical armor, or an UT-722 blaster for me and you brought a ring. For the end of the world, you brought a ring. _

Katrina rested her face in her hands until a rattle at the bathroom door caused her to start. Nick had faded into shadow. Katrina quietly opened a drawer in the kitchen to retrieve the pistol. She quietly thumbed the safety. 

The bathroom door opened, Katrina took aim at the shape emerging.

Ravenspeaker was so startled he nearly dropped the towel around his waist. 

“Don’t move. Not a bit.” Katrina warned.

“Hey, what gives?” Ravenspeaker asked. His black hair was slicked back and wet, water clung to his shoulders. “Oh, you must be--”

“Why are you here?” Katrina asked.

“Put the gun down, lady! At least let me put some pants on. Who the hell keeps a gun in the kitchen?”

“_ You _ are not supposed to be here. These are our memories! Ours. You have no right.”

“C’mon, don’t be a prude and have some respect.” He glanced back to the hallway that led to the bedroom. “Who doesn’t enjoy a little fun before work? Treasure the intimacy shared between a woman and one, possibly two, men. I mean, who remembers in the heat of the moment.”

“Drifter.”

“Right here Kat. Its alright, you can put the--”

“I’m gonna need that Lucille.” Her perspective had already shifted to the vulnerability of Ravenspeaker’s stance, and the clear targets of his knees and neck.

“Kat--”

“_ Get me the motherfucking bat!” _

Drifter’s voice took a softer tone. “Easy there Sergeant. Ravenspeaker’s just teasing. Why don’t you put the shootin’ iron down and let him put some pants on and explain himself. And iff’n you don’t like what you hear, I’ll summon up Lucille and you can beat on him like a cheap pinata.”

Ravenspeaker shot Drifter a pained look. “Hey, I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure you got a good reason for being naked in the middle of someone else’s tender memories. And if you don’t, well, lettin’ her work you with a bat is probably the friendly side of it.”

“Fine,” Ravenspeaker said, tossing the towel aside. “Help me find a pair of pants.”

Katrina cocked her head toward the dresser, then slowly lowered the pistol. “I’ve been cooped up with PRIMUS and UNTIL grunts. If you think being naked is going to shock me, you really don’t know me.”

Ravenspeaker hopped around into a pair of jeans that clung to his wet legs. “You got that right. It's why I’m here, trying to figure out what you’re about. Drifter sends me that you’re looking for help with a raven, and I’m trying to figure out how that tracks with UNTIL’s Office of Superhuman Relations.”

“And that’s supposed to explain anything? UNTIL has a Facebook page, you know.”

“I didn’t say who you are. I said what you’re about. I knew you had shadows around you, but I didn’t know exactly what kind until --” He wobbled on one leg, and for a moment Katrina thought he’d fall into the breakfast nook.

“Until what?” Katrina asked and glanced at Drifter who had echoed her words.

Ravenspeaker pulled on one of Nick’s t-shirts. His very presence seemed like a violation. “Can’t you just magic up some tights?”

“Not exactly, kinda spent at the moment -- there’s something you both need to see.”

If there’s one thing Katrina would have changed about Nick’s apartment, it was that it had only one bathroom. But, PRIMUS basic had trained her to endure the deprivation of survival in extreme environments and capture by hostile forces. Her time on the Aegir had shown her the very limits of close quarters existence. Still, when Nick had asked her what she’d wanted for Christmas, she had said, “My own sink and shower.” But his apartment only had one bathroom, sink, shower (barely room for two), and toilet crammed together. Sometimes it was easier to shower on base, but it was more fun to stay.

The glass shower walls shimmered black. At first Katrina thought it was mold, but as Drifter looked in, Katrina snaked around the vanity and peered closer at the glass. Inside, black shards, like onyx filings, clung to the glass. “When I came here, I was covered in that stuff, and I had to get it off quick.”

“You could have at least been a gentleman and cleaned the shower,” Katrina mused she watched the slivers flick between a horizontal or vertical orientation.

“I’d be careful with that, if I were you,” Drifter said, his voice thick with caution.

Katrina was reminded of a toy when she was younger, where she used a magnetic pen to move metal filing sealed in a plastic case giving a drawn face eyebrows, or a beard. She leaned back, pulling at a vanity drawer to grab a pair of tweezers. She pulled the door a fraction, and snatched a clump with the tweezers and tugged the door tightly closed. The fragments between the tweezers curled, wrapping around the tip. They smelled dry, and burned like hot creosote and burned plastic. Somewhere a girl’s enraged scream was cut off by the wet crack of bone on glass and the slow scritch of glass cracking.

*

_ Dust sifted down as the explosions closed in on the bunker. Outside, Asgard was burning -- soaked in chemicals, radiation, and ancient curses that rot from the inside out. Horrors unbound devour wave after wave of Jotunn. _

_ And they still come. Calibre was in the third round of checking his weapons and power packs.. Gradient meditated in the corner. Only Valravn seemed to fit into the moment, with her bronze armor and broadswords, her raven wings folded about her like a cloak, her dark face soft with wonder as she watched a row of mushroom clouds graced the horizon. _

_ Something clicked loudly on Adamant ‘s-- Nick’s -- Armor. The suit dominated the room and he’d bent the doorframes moving down the hallway. “Gamma levels are rising, Kat, you should get into --” _

_ “It’ll be within acceptable ranges,” Katrina said, even as the symphony of the battle played out in front of her. A few rads wouldn’t matter. Ragnarok would be fulfilled, even without the old gods to fight against the Jotunn. The Fenris wolf had been incinerated after repeated nuclear strikes, but not before it had devoured nearly a third of an armada she’d pulled from a neighboring dimension. The serpent was dead, but the toxins and biological weapons used would contaminate the ground for thousands of years. Victory, at a price. The final price would be everything, but supposedly, the few Jotunn that remained would rebuild the world anew. A better world. But could a better world come from this? Odin’s Pyrrhic Victory would be accomplished. But had Odin considered she’d bring nukes, biological and chemical weapons? Had he considered cursing the fields of Valhalla with the mad dreams of lobotomized gods? Katrina had, because that’s what victory is -- using the weapons at your disposal. All of them. _

_ Somewhere was another path, and she searched through possibilities, playing scenario after scenario in her mind, pushing her to a conclusion; the only way to change the price was to change the victory, and find -- _

I have found what asked for._ Gradient’s intruded on her search. She had felt his scan gnatting around at the back of her mind, and was careful not to resist him. _Good, get that to Caliber right away.

I have also seen your plan. Katrina, I am--

Can Calibre make the shot? _ Katrina asked. _

I believe he can, and only his laser is fine enough. Even if you could bank your blaster, the beam diffusion would increase the width to almost a millimeter. 

Way too wide, _ Katrina thought. _Tell him what needs to be done. I’ll talk to Adamant.

_ Through his telepathy she felt Gradient’s sorrow. _ Katrina, I’m sorry _ . _

Don’t. There’s no time. Talk to Calibre.

_ Gradient’s presence in her mind faded. “Nick.” _

_ “Whatcha got in mind, Corporal?” _

_ Katrina shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s that Pizza place on Third…” _

_ “Sounds great. I’ll put that Vodka on ice.” _

_ “You know I hate vodka.” _

_ “I know we’re not getting pizza,” he said as an explosion rumbled through the bunker, “Kat, is this all handled?” _

_ Katrina sighed, as the skyline turned into fire. “This is, but I think I found another path instead of ‘winning’ Ragnarok.” _

_ “Force it to draw?” _

_ “I tried working that, but no. Something about it being prophesy makes it binary. It either happens or it doesn’t. But since you all freed me from Menlus’ programming, I can declare my own victory, and if somehow if the guarantee of a Pyrrhic Victory were removed--” _

_ “Kat, I do not like the sound of that.” _

_ “If I make that winning, it has to happen.” _

_ “You’re using your ability to remove your ability? How does that even work?” _

_ “Gradient thinks it can be done through a procedure. Calibre is working one of his lasers now.” _

_ “Battlefield surgery? Is there time?” _

_Katrina swallowed and closed her eyes._More like battlefield lobotomy, but I have to tell him. _“Only if the Jotunn forces are delayed.”_

_ She saw the understanding on his face. “And in order to delay them we need indestructible armor.” His eyes glanced at the gleaming hulk of the Adamant Armor. She’d helped him find weaknesses in the plating, tested the joints with the heaviest weapons UNTIL would permit. She bit back her usual response that nothing was indestructible; Her mind had already run it through -- he’d buy them thirty seconds. _

_ “How’s this play out?” _

_ “Nick, it doesn’t have to be this way. You could leave.” She knew he wouldn’t take it but she had to offer the choice. _

_ “I thought we needed Valkyrja to take us back and she’s --” he waved his hand to the viewport. “Out there, bound by the prophecy.” _

_ “Having the time of her life killing Jotunn by the dozens. Of course she fights for Asgard. Its her role. But Valravn isn’t caught up in prophecy. She’s outside it. She knows the route out of here, but can’t protect us on the journey, but your armor--” _

_ “What? So I’m the only one who escapes and Ragnarok happens? No. The Doctors said if Ragnarok happened here, it could spread to trigger other apocalypses.” _

_ “There’s a chance the completion of Ragnarok doesn’t affect doesn’t spread to our Earth.” _

_ “But it spreads to an Earth. Another Earth would--” _

_ “Goddamnit! I don’t want another Earth. I want you to live.” Katrina’s jaw ached from clenching. _

_ Nick was already shaking his head. “No. Not happening. I couldn’t live with that, and I don’t think you could either.” _

_ “It won’t matter. I won’t make it, and the price -- “ _

_ “You’ve said it yourself, any price you’re willing to pay doesn’t count.” _

_ Katrina wiped at her face. “Fine. The best I have goes like this: You go out and rendezvous with Valkyrja. They Jotunn would normally overwhelm her eventually, but with you, an outsider, they’ll concentrate their forces. That will slow their advance long enough for Calibre to set up the shot to -- to burn away the part of my mind connected to Pyrrhic Victory. If it works--” _

_ “If?” _

_ “I’m changing the victory conditions to undermine the concept itself.” _

_ “You’ll be free.” _

_ “I’ll probably be dead. Even if it works, there’s prices -- there’s always a damn price.” _

_ “What price?” _

_ Katrina felt her jaw moving, but she couldn’t force the words out. _ Nothing I want to pay. _ “If it works, Valkyrja is free of the prophecy, and can get the survivors home.” _

_ “What is the price?” _

_ “You know the price.” Her voice shook. _

_ He nodded. “Then we’re wasting time,” He said, fussing with a pocket, and flipped open a small velveteen box. The ring inside gleamed. “Marry me?” _

_ Katrina shook her head. “You can’t be serious.” _

_ “I figure its my best chance, here at the end of someone else’s world. I love you. Marry me.” _

_ “I love you. Yes. I’ll marry you.” She took the ring, and shoved it on her finger. “Yes.” _

_ “Then you’d better have made sure your victory means you live, or this will be the shortest engagement ever.” _

_ Katrina wished she could hold him. But then seconds would be gone, and the whole plan would be for nothing. He was already crawling into the cockpit of his armor, the massive frame powering up. Each step the Adamant armor took bowed the floor plating. Calibre slid through the doorway after Adamant passed. _

_ “Where’s he off to?” _

To die. _ “Buying us time. Are you ready?” _

_ “I’m always ready to shoot something. ‘Bout time you realized you admitted I was the better shot.” _

_ Katrina undid her helmet and let it drop to the floor. “Sure.” _

_ “‘Sure’? Not even a ‘Fuck you, Calibre?’ You alright?” _

_ “I’m fine. We’re running out of time.” Katrina laid prone on a bench, her hands braced on the floor. She felt the cool polymer of the barrel against her head. _Concentrate on the victory. The price takes care of itself. 

_ “Can you see the target?” Gradient asked Caliber. Katrina realized the intensity of Gradients concentration that he was actually verbalizing instead of using telepathy. _

_ “Yeah, just hold the fuck still, Kat,” Calibre said, his voice tight. _

_ Katrina heard the hiss of Valravn’s blades. “They’re almost here.” She felt the barrel tense. Somewhere in the sky, was the Adamant armor, its gatling cannon dry the missile bays empty, swinging those great fists like wrecking balls as the horrors brought by the Jotunn covered everything. _

_ The world became light. _


	8. A Moment to Stay With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of Asgard, Katrina reflects, and makes a promise to Valravn.

_ He’s right _ , Katrina thought as she watched huddled in the corner.  _ I couldn’t have made that shot.  _ Even Calibre wasn’t sure he had, but then Valkyrja appeared in a shower of fire and smoke, her horns scraping the ceiling, covered in a layer of blood and oil that made her great axe seem an extension of her thick, sinewy arms. Valravn picked Katrina up from the bench, and in a moment, they were gone in Valkyrja’s fiery ring -- Calibre, Valravn, Corporal Katrina Mirinova of Then.

Katrina of Now studied the burn in the floor, where the laser had pierced Katrina of Then’s skull, and burned through the bench. A shivering darkness lay nearby. She always wondered what happened to that part cut away, the remaining ends of her connection to Pyrrhic Victory. It’s reach for her felt delicate, like a comfort.

_ I could do it again, come up with a better end. All I need to do is accept what I threw away. I can control it better now, and maybe see a world where Nick lives, and is one of the Jotunn that start a new world. A world with you would be beautiful, whether I’m in it or not. _

_ No,  _ she thought, pushing the tendrils away.  _ That’s not how it works. No matter what I see, the price will be too high. So I’ll stay here with you, Nick. Its where I should have been. Let another Katrina attend the funeral, and face your parents. Let that Katrina lose you and pack your things and watch your friends drift away. Let that Katrina live as a ghost. Your parents, your friends, they didn’t deserve to lose you. I sacrificed Asgard. I sacrificed you. I should have been sacrificed too. I don’t need another victory. _

A flicker of ebony caught her attention. Valravn, her onyx skin blending with the shadows of a dying world. Her wings cast shadows across the room as she flicked away the cinders that clung to them. But her armor, normally tarnished lacquered leather and bronze, gleamed. As her gaze rested on Katrina, the raven at her shoulder squawked with alarm but she soothed it with a touch.

_ How can she see me? _ “Val? Didn’t you just leave?”

“Leave? No Kat, it's been, so very long since I’ve been here. And I wouldn’t be, if it weren’t for you.” 

Katrina could only look dumbfounded as Valravn grabbed her shoulder with a mailed hand. “Come on, Katrina, it’s time to go home.”

“I am home.”

“No,” Valravn said with a gentle smile, “Before Odin cast away an eye for wisdom, he could see a great deal. When I devoured that eye, I gained some of that sight, and I can see this is no home for you.”

Katrina shook her head. “You’re a vision. I know you’re in Millenium City, and you’re sick, turning to stone.”

Valravn hauled Katrina’s arm over her shoulder. “You say funny things. Up, you, I know you can walk, so walk, or I’ll carry you.” 

Something in her tone told Katrina she wasn’t joking, and she took small steps, wobbling. What--”

“The air, the ground, everything is poison. It will kill the last of the Jotunn. You might not really be here in flesh, but the horrors you brought here don’t pay that much heed. We are not immune, either and should be gone soon, so walk.”

Each step they took covered tens of kilometers, then hundreds. Each step felt none the different, whether it was on earth, sea or sky. The bunker became was a distant burning speck in a boiling sea. Despite the chaos, Valravn’s voice was steady, almost lyrical. “I do remember being close to stone in Millenium City, and the ravens would pay me no heed.”

“What happened?”

“The raven I had been was fading away, but Ravenspeaker found a way for me to become other ravens. I am still the raven who ate the eye Odin traded for wisdom, but I’m also the raven that Apollo sent to spy on his lover, Corallis. I am who distracted the gaul who would have slain Marcus Valerius, and gave him the day instead. My brethren and I brought food to the prophet Elijah and protected St. Vincent’s body from being devoured by wild animals. I’ve told you all these stories, so this you already know.”

_ I do now _ , Katrina thought, the distance from dead Asgard giving her new life. She looked back at what was left, a grey orb held by a tree that stretched on forever. Even now, she could feel the tree dying. “I destroyed your home. I’m so sorry, Val.”

Valravn, shugged toward the dying plane. “Ragnarok means everything dies so the world can start anew. It never said when, or where.”

The gift she had cut away seemed like a distant dream.  _ I would have become a rock in a dead universe, if not for her.  _ “Val, I--thank you.”

“You freed me from Ymir’s heart. It is the least I can do.”

“What? No, when I met you, someone else had said the charm to open the barrow.”

Valravn shook her head. “That charm might have released me from the earth, but the prison was here.” She placed a mailed fist over her heart. “And that took time, and patience. You gave me a home on top of UNTIL. Taught me your words when I would have been content in the trees. All I knew was the barrow and the dark. That would have been my prison if not for you.”

“Val -- I in Asgard, I lost someone and I loved them and--”

“I know. I didn’t then. You were so strange and different. I couldn’t understand. But I have seen the epochs with Bhusunda, and I understand now. I’m sorry. You were so kind to a childish crow. But please, don’t make that love your prison. Go back to your body -- you don’t need to go back to Asgard. I, and so many others, need you  _ here. _ Promise me, as one warrior to another, you won’t go back to Asgard.”

Katrina pulled Valravn into a fierce hug, and ignored the ravens squawk and pecks at her head. “I will promise you as a friend.”

“Even better.” Valravn said, her hug nearly crushing the wind out of her. “Now go, or the mystics will worry.”

*

Her first breath felt like fire, and she smacked her head on the vanity.

“I told you to be careful,” Drifter said.

Katrina scrambled back from the shower, tossing the tweezers from her hand, but the glass was only streaked with soap and hard water. “Where’s the black fidgety stuff?”

“It melted away shortly before you came to,” Ravenspeaker said, running his finger down the soap film. 

“Got it all sorted?” Drifter asked.

Katrina eyed Drifter, wondering how much he knew. His face was an unreadable mask of flesh and metal. “Yeah. I think so. And that being the case, Ravenspeaker, can you please get out of my fiance's clothes and conjure up your own damn tights? And can we please fuck off from this memory and get to Valravn?”

“Do you kiss your fiance with that mouth?” Ravenspeaker asked.

“No, he’s dead.”

“Oh, way to make me feel like a shit.” Ravenspeaker muttered, peeling out of his shirt.

“Yup,” Drifter said, rubbing at his jaw, “I’m thinkin’ she’s fine. C’mon trickster, we got a date with a raven”

*

The rain had eased, coaxing fog from the Ravenswood to make a thick blanket over the ground. The clouds had parted to make the wet trees glisten in moonlight. From the shadows, Katrina could make out Valravn in raven form, huddled on a branch, her red eyes gleamed.  _ No other ravens.  _ Katrina thought.  _ She’s alone. _

“She’s beautiful,” Ravenspeaker breathed. “That plumage, those talons! A magnificent sharp beak, such a specimen.”

“He’s got an erection, doesn’t he?” Katrina muttered to Drifter as Ravenspeaker approached Valravn.

“You can check yourself, if you’re fixin to know,” Drifter said, leaning back on a tree. “Some secrets in the universe just aint worth pursuing.”

“Back atcha.” 

“The problem is,” Ravenspeaker said, suddenly sitting in the tree above them, “is she’s forgotten how to be a raven she’s just --”

“A prisoner?” Katrina suggested.

“Yeah. So I can help her remember, but she’s still kind of a homeless demigod, and the plane she’s from is gone.”

“She’s got no anchor,” Drifter said, “Which is kind of the crux of the problem. I’ve got some thoughts on how to fix that, but nothing fully thought out yet.”

“How about,” Katrina said, “You tie her to all of them?”

“There’s only one trickster Raven --” Ravenspeaker started, then rubbed his chin with a sly grin, “Or was there…” 

“And the flood, and Apollo, Bran the Blessed -- just borrow a little from them all.”

Ravenspeaker and Drifter exchanged a look. If they spoke, it was on a level Katrina couldn’t hear. Finally Ravenspeaker said, “That just might work, and how like a raven to sneak their way on someone else’s stage. Pretty clever, UNTIL grunt. But its still no sure thing, but I can try some basic attunement and see if its promising.”

“Just keep your wand in your pants, Harry Potter.”

“Don’t be so provincial,” Ravenspeaker said with a haughty sniff. “Her hatchlings would be the very best of ravenkind, and a gentleman never talks of the sacred rituals.” He was already in his raven form, flitting off to the tree.

Katrina sighed. 

“I know he sounds like bad news, but Ravenspeaker’s a good guy, and won’t let your friend come to any harm.”

“I know,” Katrina said, feeling strangely light as she watched the mist cradle the moon like a dream. “I mean, You usually show up when things are falling apart, but I have a feeling that it's going to be alright.”

“Huh. Back atcha, Sergeant. So how’d you know how to fix Valravn’s predicament, anyway?”

“She told me.”

“No kiddin? Maybe you are fixin on becoming a mystic.”

“Not on your life -- er lives, Drifter. Not on your lives.”


End file.
